Tuesday, September 4, 2018

On Time

Chelsea stared at the options in front of her. The vending machine made a dull humming noise that was distracting, but none of the colorful snacks looked appealing at all. She just kept standing there and looking at each row again and again anyway.

She slowly became aware of the background murmur of the hospital staff bustling around. It was a nice distraction from Stacy's room. The stab of guilt hit her immediately and she straightened up and took a deep breath, trying to make herself ready to go back in the room.

It had been two years of fighting her daughter's leukemia, and it had never felt more hopeless than today. "Fighting," she thought to herself. Everyone always talked about cancer like it's a fight. "Stacy and her parents are fighting leukemia" people would post on Facebook. But it never felt that way to her. It always felt like a robbery. A rape.

Chelsea and her husband Jared had done everything for Stacy over the last two years. Every treatment option had the same pattern - hopeful anticipation and then worsening dispair. Through this last round of stem cell transplants, Chelsea didn't even let her hopes get raised - they did it because it was the next thing to do, but all the while, she was bracing for the familiar answer.

Jared was talking to the doctor outside the room when Chelsea walked up. The doctor put her hand on Jared's shoulder and squeezed it before walking away, giving Stacy the look she had been bracing for since they started the latest treatment.

"What?" Chelsea said, needing to hear the answer, but knowing in her stomach what it was.

"You didn't want anything to eat?" Jared replied, with a quick glance.

"What did she say?"

"You really should eat something. It's..."

"Jared. What did the doctor say?"

He squatted down in the hallway and leaned his back against the wall. Chelsea did the same. Looking up at the fluorescent lights, he sighed a long and fragmented sigh.:

"Her vitals are crashing and with how weak she is, they can't risk any more treatment options. It's over Chels. Stacy has an hour left. Maybe two."

There was a long pause where neither spoke. Chelsea knew those words would come. It was a feeling she had from the first appointment and she had been running them through her mind for the last two years. "It's over."

So much of their story had been leading up to Stacy being here, and now she was being taken away. She was supposed to be their miracle child. They had tried and failed to conceive for years, each anticipation being met with disappointment. It began to fragment their marriage, but Jared said he had faith that it would happen at the right time. Finally, it did - and they were quickly thrown into a fight for their lives, only to lose again.

Somewhere along the way, Chelsea had realized that faith wasn't enough. Someone had to get up and actually do something.

"If that's the case, then let's spend that time with her, not out here. We can cry later, but right now, we have to be there for our daughter."

There was a coldness in how she spoke that she didn't intend, but Jared wasn't doing well, so she had to be the strong one again and get their family through it.

They both got up and went back into the room. Chelsea's sister had flown down from Minnesota the week before, and both sets of parents had made it, plus a few close family friends. The TV was on in the corner showing the local news station. The sound was off, but the subtitles showed along the bottom part of the screen. Chelsea shot a look at her father who was the most likely one to have turned it on, but his eyes were fixed on the TV and didn't see her come in. She looked at Jared, but his he was staring at it now too.

"Unbelievable," she thought to herself.

Chelsea went over to the bed and held Stacy's hand, but Jared and her dad stood watching the TV next to each other.

"Do you think it's all true?" Jared said quietly to his father in law, both still staring at the TV.

"Do you?" he replied with poorly veiled sarcasm.

"Yeah. I do" Jared said after a moment.

Jared quickly went over to the couch in the room and grabbed his keys out of the bag. He went to Stacy and kissed her on the forehead. "I'll be back. As fast as I can. I promise," he said to Chelsea and quickly went for the door.

"Where are you going?!" Chelsea said, almost yelling.

"I have to try. It's the only thing left." Jared said. His eyes showed the sleep he had lost over the many nights and he walked out the door.

"Did he just leave?" Chelsea's mother said in a low tone.

He knew that Stacy only had an hour or two left alive, and he just left. The attack on her daughter and now the retreat of her husband would have to be two separate fights. Even if he wouldn't be there for the family, she would.

---

Maggie sat in her wheelchair outside the hospital doors waiting for her sister to bring the car around. She was being sent back home again without any real progress being made. This most recent doctor did what all the rest had done - drew blood, asked questions, and gave no certain answers.

The thick August afternoon was heavy and damp. It had just rained, which made the smell of exhaust from the parking lot mix with the humidity and stick to her skin and hair.

"I need a shower," she thought to herself.

Over the last 12 years, she had answered far more questions for doctors than they had answered for her - and she just had one: Why won't I stop bleeding? Every new specialist came "very highly recommended" and had qualifiers around their titles and long resumes about where they were fellowship trained and what kind of certifications they had. But none of the specialists could answer it - they just drew blood, asked questions, and gave no answers.

Everything had been put on hold until this was answered. No serious relationship could possibly be started with this looming over her, threatening to put an end to it eventually. Something inside her had always told her that no one would want to date a girl who is always on her period.

"I need a better doctor," she muttered under her breath.

As she sat there, several people excitedly jogged by her into the hospital. Some had cameras, a few were excitedly talking on the phone and looking behind them. Then a few more. After a moment, what seemed to be a crowd of people were coming toward the hospital doors, loudly talking and all very close together.

Somewhere in the lead was a man whose face she recognized. That was Jesus. Maggie had been seeing videos of him in her newsfeed the past week or more. Even in just the last couple days, there had been cellphone footage circulating around of him curing someone who was entirely out of his mind - supposedly living in a graveyard and cutting himself for years. Other people had been posting and sharing photos and stories about how he had cured them just by touching them.

In that instant that Maggie sat there looking toward him, it was as if two realities were smashing into each other, and the reality of the last 12 years was about to crumble under the weight of what was about to happen.

He kept walking closer. She sat up straight and hoped he would see her and stop, but he wasn't looking at her. The crowd pressed in tightly to get through the automatic double doors of the hospital entrance, and she lost sight of him and he passed by.

She sat there in the haze of what just happened, her heart beating on her chest so loud she could hear it in her ears, her head, and in every extremity of her body.

"No," she said out loud.

She jumped out of her wheelchair and ran in after him. She pushed and shoved to get as close as she could, but the crowd was packed in so tightly in the waiting room it was hard to see or hear over the noise.

Suddenly, she realized he was only one row of people away. She reached over the sea of shoulders and stretched out her hand to touch him on the arm. "I just have to touch him and I know I'll be healed," she thought to herself.

As her hand touched his arm from behind, she felt something physically shift in her core and a tingling into the tips of her fingers and toes shot through her. She felt a rightness in her body - she knew that in one instant, the bleeding that had been with her for the last 12 years had stopped. She smiled wide, and looked around - no one around seemed to know what just happened. She wondered if even he knew...

"Hang on," a voice said. And the swell of the room came to a surging halt.

"Who just touched me?" Jesus said, looking around in the crowd.

Maggie's face went white and all the fullness and happiness she had just felt seemed balanced on the edge, about to fall over. She waited a moment to see if she would go unnoticed.

"What are you talking about?" one of the people nearby said. He seemed to be trying to pull Jesus forward. "Let's go! There's no time! There are tons of people here. It doesn't matter if someone bumped into you - we need to go!"

"No," he said. "Someone here touched me..."

Maggie saw his eyes scanning the crowd and knew he would find her. She pushed her way forward and raised her hand.

"It was me," she said, trembling. For some reason, she dropped down to her knees. Her head was down, staring at the floor. "I have had a condition for a long time, and when I saw you, I knew you could heal me if I could just touch you. I'm sorry, I had no other hope."

She sat there on the floor, her whole body shaking as she waited.

He knelt down and put his hands on her shoulders and helped her up back to her feet and smiled at her.

"Daughter," he said. The word caught her off guard. She kept her eyes locked on his. "It was your faith that healed you. You can go in peace now, and not suffer anymore."

"We have to go!" the man said again. He kept looking at his watch and trying to get the crowd to surge forward again, but everyone's eyes were on Maggie.

Someone pushed their way into the small circle that had formed around Jesus, and they went up to the man and spoke a low tone. Maggie was still close enough to Jesus and overheard them.

"Stacy is dead. You're too late. Just come upstairs and be with your family. Tell him he doesn't need to come anymore."

Jesus, with one hand still on Maggie, touched Jared's shoulder and smiled at him.

"Don't be afraid," he said to Jared, and smiling at Maggie, he said, "You just have to believe."

----

Chelsea sat in a chair by the bed, still holding Stacy's hand. It was cold. The last 10 minutes, she had felt beaten between the loss of her daughter and the loss of her husband - one with a body too weak to live and the other with a heart too weak to stay.

A nurse was removing Stacy's IV line from her other hand, but worked quietly. Her parents and sister were standing nearby crying. Jared's parents had left to go find him. She heard the door open and several people come inside. She heard her parents' cries get louder and knew Jared had returned - too late and with too little.

"Why are you all crying?" a voice said. She didn't recognize it, but the casualness of the tone was so out of place in this room - in Stacy's room - she got up and looked around. Jared stood there, his eyes wide and bright. A few people stood behind him that she also did not recognize. The man who spoke looked around the room, expecting an answer.

"She isn't dead. She's just asleep."

The nurse let out a small laugh at the absurdity of what he just said and shook her head as she left the room. Chelsea's parents and sister were ushered out of the room, too bewildered at what was happening to protest.

Jesus walked over to Stacy's bed and looked at her. There were tears in his eyes, but he was smiling a radiant smile as he looked at her.

"Sweetheart," he said softly. "It's time to wake up."

Stacy's eyes fluttered open and she looked up at Jesus and smiled.

"Hello!" she said in her bright, cheerful way.

"Hi," Jesus said, smiling back. "Are you hungry?"

Stacy nodded.

"Let's get you something to eat then."

He turned to Chelsea and said, "Isn't there a vending machine down the hall?"


Tuesday, June 26, 2018

Morning Prayers through Scripture

Monday Morning, June 25, 2018 5:23am
It's a week before the Awaken Prayer Initiative starts on June 1. I opened my Bible to Isaiah and went to 8:11 and started reading there.

8:11 "For the LORD spoke thus to me with his strong hand upon me, and warned me not to walk in the way of this people, saying:"


Father, thank you that you speak to us even still. That the one constant between Isaiah and me is that your voice has spoken to both of us and continues to speak. Thank you that we know your name and are allowed to call on it by the blood of Jesus. I am amazed that your voice is so present.  
I want to know when your voice is speaking to me and when your hand is resting on me to get my attention. Please don't be far from me today. Watch over Caroline and Sam and little Charlie - I ask that my sons learn to hear your voice at an early age and have obedient hearts that want to do what their father does.  
Warn me when I'm in danger and warn my family. Speak to me throughout the day and help me be present with you today. Set me apart so that I can be a blessing to those around me. Thank you for your never-stopping love. 

I love that God still speaks to us and that a voice that we can repeat. I think about the years and years he has chased me down with His voice and His love. I think of where He has brought me to and what he has guarded me from, and it's really amazing how patient he is.

8:12 "'Do not call conspiracy all that his people calls conspiracy, and do not fear what they fear, nor be in dread."
Father there are currents all around me pulling me in every direction. Political news and comedians fill my head when I'm in neutral and I laugh at chaos when I should pray and greive. Forgive me for using the names that those around me use and going along with their narrative. I never stop and ask 'Lord, how should I be praying about this? How do you see this situation? What is on your heart right now?" You have not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and a sound mind - please show me what that looks like as it relates to current events. 
I need to be careful what I let frame the story. Too often I let late-night talk-show hosts and journalists decide how I think about a certain story, and I need to take a pause and ask God what His thoughts are about it and how I should be praying.

It's so easy to think that the battle is remembering to pray throughout the day. It seems that the real battle in my heart is remembering that God is God.

8:13 "But the LORD of hosts, him you shall honor as holy. Let him be your fear and your dread."
Father, be my focus today. Don't let me forget that you are who you are. That you are. That YOU. In every situation today, help me return to the rememberance of YOU. Not it, not this, not me, not him or her - but keep me mindful of how much of YOU there is and how much I need you. I do not consider your awe and power nearly enough - there is more than enough there to worship for all of eternity, and that should be an ever-present realization. In contrast, there is nothing on earth that is worthy of the emotion of fear - in contrast, not being close to you should cause me dread - being out of your will should cause me fear. All the elements we naturally fear are built on being unsafe, insecure, exposed - and that is how I am when I am not near you Father. 

8:14 "And he will become a sanctuary and a stone of offense and a rock of stumbling to both houses of Israel, a trap and a snare to the inhabitants of Jerusalem."
Jesus, this is you. This is you written thoughout the history books of scripture. Thank you for the confidence I can have in you, knowing that you are not a last-minute thought or just a helpful bystander in salvation. You were part of the plan from the beginning, and all of history leads up to you and all of history reveals you. 

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Tuesday Morning, June 26, 2018 5:12am


8:15 "Many of them will stumble; they will fall and be broken, they will be snared and captured."
Jesus, you bring justice everywhere you go - thank you. Any encounter with you brings down the prideful and raises up the low. Please help me deal with my pride first. You say that every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus is Lord - that will happen one way or the other, so help me delare it now and for the rest of my life. 
8:16 "Bind up this testimony of warning and seal up God's instruction among my disciples." 
Father, help me remember what you've taught me. That's all. Just don't let me forget what you've done and who you are. I confess that I forget so frequently and act like my life is mine to direct wherever I want on my own strength - and it's never been. You have been there from the start - you have sheperded me and fathered me through it all, and I forget the lessons you've taught me and keep imagining I am strong and talented and that is why I am here. I am here because of your goodness and mercy - that needs to be bound up and carried with me wherever I go as a testimony and warning. 
This is so good for my heart. Reflecting on God's goodness over the years and taking every single verse and asking myself "God, what are you saying to me right now - what should I be praying for?" I feel like I've been given a brand new tool that perfectly fits this need in my heart. It is helping me be still, read scripture, meditate, listen, and pray. What an invaluable gift. Writing it out helps me put words to feelings and articulate the prayer.

8:17 "I will wait for the LORD, who is hiding his face from the descendants of Jacob. I will put my trust in him."
Father, even when you are far away - even when I seem to be abandoned - I will wait for you. I don't know if that is an empty promise or not, but it is what I want. I want to have your faithfulness so bound and packed into my heart, that even when the entire world seems abandoned by you, I can feed on what you have done and your promises. My trust - help me to trust you at all times, regardless of what I feel. You have always been the center of this. Every ability I have to choose you is preceeded by your faithfulness and consistency in choosing me. I will put my trust in you because you have given me absolutely everything. 
8:18 "Here am I, and the children the LORD has given me. We are signs and symbols in Israel from the LORD Almighty, who dwells on Mount Zion."
Lord, even as I pray this, Sam wakes up and is standing in his crib. You have given me all the life I have - a rich story of your faithfulness that I can share with my children. I beg you that Sam would have a heart like yours and that Charlie would seek after you with all his strength. Be their God. Be the savior of my sons just like you have been my savior. Build a testimony for them that will bless everyone they meet and draw them closer to you. 
Recently, Sam has figured out how to pull himself up into a standing position, but he hasn't been very good at lowering himself down, so he pulls himself up and then starts crying until we help him down. In the last day or two, he has learned how to go down to his knees from a standing position, which is great, but it also means that that's all he wants to do. Stand, kneel, sit, and repeat. He loves repeating a new-found skill over and over again out of wonder (I imagine) in his ability to do it.

I feel like I am very similar. God teaches me a new lesson and I see it in every story, every situation, everywhere I look. He teaches me a new way to interact with Him, and I just want to do it over and over again with Him out of wonder.


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Wednesday Morning, June 27, 2018 5:16am

8:19: "When someone tells you to consult mediums and spiritists, who whisper and mutter, should not a people inquire of their God? Why consult the dead on behalf of the living?"
Father, you are so patient. You lead your people through the same things, generation after generation. I keep trying to find help in all the wrong places and turn to you as a last resort, and that shouldn't be. I want you so present in my life, that when I need help or have joy, it is shared with you first. I want to see what your thoughts are first - even before my thoughts. You have all the answers, you know all the details - any other help or source of wisdom is fragments of you. Wisdom says to go to the source. 

8:20 "Consult God's instruction and the testimony of warning. If anyone does not speak according to this word, they have no light of dawn."
You are the source Lord. Anyone else who appears to have the answers only do in as much as they reflect you. You are like the sun every morning. 
8:21 "Distressed and hungry, they will roam through the land; when they are famished, they will become enraged and, looking upward, will curse their king and their God."  
The only source of life is you. You bring peace, you bring satisfaction, you bring a steadiness during difficult times. Without you, all distress and dissatisfaction brings despair and hopelessness. 
8:22 "Then they will look toward the earth and see only distress and darkness and fearful gloom, and they will be thrust into utter darkness."
 Without nearness to you, I am lost. When I look at current events and do not account for your hand, I get depressed and cynical. Help me stay close to you Father. Be present in my daily walk so no detail seems disconnected from your hand.  


Thursday Morning, June 28, 2018 8:18am

Isaiah 9:1 "Nevertheless, there will be no more gloom for those who were in distress. In the past he humbled the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the future he will honor Galilee of the nations, by the Way of the Sea, beyond the Jordan -" 
You make provision far in advance Father. From the very beginning of time, you set the plan in place for Jesus and announced it to every generation before and to every generation after. No matter how dark it is, you are the light - your light is coming and has come. 
I love that this is the passage I've stumbled on this week. Isaiah was all but a random choice - more an exercise in "well if I'm looking for things to pray about, it may not matter where I start." Someone once mentioned to me that Isaiah really starts getting good after chapter 40, and I've always kind of just accepted that and I think discounted the earlier parts as less compelling or applicable. But God wrote his story in every single place throughout scripture, and this is a really cool reminder of that.

Isaiah 9:2 "The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned."
Thank you that you come to get us. When we wonder really far from you, you always give us hope and a chance (and another and another).